


Resolute

by Mallie3



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Drama, F/M, Lemon, Pre-Androids, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallie3/pseuds/Mallie3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heartbroken or not, the Saiya-jin prince has always been untamed and even with so much history between our favorite couple, it is time. The prince must reach his goal, even if it means leaving...possibly for good. (pre-andriods)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resolute

**Author's Note:**

> Resolute
> 
> By: Mallie-3
> 
> Word Count: 7,968
> 
> Rating: M (NC-17)
> 
> Summery: The Saiya-jin prince has always been untamed and even with so much history between our favorite couple, it is time. The prince must reach his goal, even if it means leaving...possibly for good.  
> 'What did he have to account for? Nothing. He was not a Super Saiya-jin. He was nothing if he could not surpass that low class clown. He would seclude himself until his goal was met. Not only that, but he had distractions now. The female was causing more problems then not.' Pre-Andriods.
> 
> Warnings: Sexual Content! If you are under the age of 18, please, please heed this warning!! Very descriptive sexual content, as usual from me!

….

 

..

 

..

 

..

 

.

ooOoo

 

 

Sweat dripped from the end of his nose, splatting against the warm floor beneath his flexed, trembling hands. He forced the weight of his body up through the downward thrust of gravity, which pressing down on the taunt muscles of his arms and upper body.

 

The Saiya-jin prince forced one arm behind his back, feeling his muscles burn and throb. His whole body screamed out, begging to be released of the stressful environment it was being subjected to. He sucked in a quick breath, blew out air and sweat partials, and screaming as he thrust the weight of his body up off the floor. Vegeta bared his teeth grunting with one final push-up. He yelled out, powering up and thrusting his body in a backward spiral, landing upon one knee. The vein in his forehead pulsed as he took slow steps toward the controls.

 

Vegeta sucked in a deep breath, pounding a heavy fist upon the large red button. Gravity slowly reached an equilibrium and he felt his entire body sag. His muscles were fatigued and cried out thankful for the sudden release of the intense pressure it had felt just moments before.

 

A bead of sweat trickled down the length of his sharp jaw. He swiped his gloved hand across his brow and narrowed his black eyes looking to the tightly barred door, then to the clock. It was 3:03AM. He had been at it all day and yet he still felt as if he had accomplished nothing. There was absolutely no room for coffee breaks. He would reach the level he had been training for. He no longer would stand around while that low class fool continued to surpass him. The flame haired man bared his teeth, clenching his hands brutally around a towel before placing it around his neck. He was extremely determined to bring that fool, Kakkarot, to his knees. He would prove he was the better man. The former prince of the Saiya-jin would transform sooner rather than later.

 

Vegeta grunted, limping toward the door. A sharp pain shot down his arm, across his hips and then spider webbed down his thighs. The brief, but intense pain, caused the man to wince just momentarily. His dark eyes slowly glided downward to see bright red ribbon-like strands of blood coursing their way down the toned muscle of his arm. His nostrils flared, forcing himself to stand straight. His reached out with his good arm and gripping the door handle. He quickly locked the machine. A small blast of energy formed below his feet, hovering only a moment above the ground and propelling himself to the veranda of his room. Stepping inside and quietly closing the sliding door, his black gaze trailed carefully across the dreadfully plain room. A bed, a television that he seldom used, and a closet with barely anything to wear except for spandex and the occasional sweat pants the blue haired wench insisted he try.

 

He tried his very best to get to his bed without even a hint of a limp, but failed miserably. The man had been training harder than he expected. If Bulma knew he had cranked the gravity machine again he would never hear the end of her screeching. He pursed his lips and gripped his gloves, pulling them carefully off each finger. The new gear he had been testing out all day was suitable enough. There were minor flaws. The female had been working vigorously to complete it for him in preparation for the Androids, but had yet to find a suitable match. She had studied his previous gear and created a cheap knock off the first attempt, but it was slowly getting better, though he would never admit that too her face. He hated seeing that...that smile...

 

He paused, briefly allowing her face to grace his mind. Those perfect lips, that head of silky blue hair... the way she looked in the soft moonlight...naked...

With that he threw the bloodied towel to the ground. Wincing once again, he took a careful look at the open wound. Blood seeped into the open area of his gear. The tough threads of the material were burnt completely through. Was it melted to his flesh? Vegeta reached up and began to pry the material away from his skin, crying out as it took a portion of his own flesh with it. Blood welled over and coursed thick streams down his exposed arm.

 

“Fuck,” He barked out, tearing the upper portion of the material away completely, as one would deal with a band-aid. A good portion of the suit lay limply in his hand. Bulma wouldn't be happy to know he ruined, yet another suit she worked hard on. She didn't really want him to annihilate her hard work with each use.

 

When she had her mind set to perfecting something, the woman usually proved she could. It was none stop with his armor. One of the perks of having her around, he supposed. The female had her uses, she was adapt at making armor, but excellent when it came to fixing the gravity machine and the bots. Her bots were at a level he could contend with. They were the closest he would allow to a training 'partner'. Anything thing that talked was completely out of the question. These bots proved their training worthiness, and were so good that one of the little bastards actually had caught up with his fatiguing body and struck him in the deltoid. The throbbing wasn't anything new. He had worse injuries when he was under Frieza's rule. He had been near death many times. Though, it was annoying none the less.

 

Tossing his gloves upon the bed, he tilted his head back, inhaling the fresh air. He smelled to high hell. Fresh sweat gleamed across his now bare chest. His black eyes shot open as a fresh scent, no, a familiar feminine scent wafted into his nasal cavity.

 

_The woman had been in here..._

 

She most likely came to see if he had already took to his bed. Not quite. He was too busy training. She wouldn't dare bother him now, especially this close to the Androids. She had learned rather quick that trying to stop him would only make him more persistent. He was not one to be told what to do, and she understood that. The female was almost the exact same way, but lacked the mentality of a hardened warrior. The woman could not honestly understand what it meant. To be born to a warrior race. Strength meant everything. There was absolutely no weakness. Weakness meant death. Even under Frieza's rule he learned quickly to trust no one, and to rely on instincts. He learned to be ruthless, it was how he survived.

 

….

 

…

 

..

 

.

.

 

..

 

…

 

….

 

 

The shower head turned on, steam began to rise, clouding the mirrors and causing the ceiling and walls within the tiled shower to glisten from perspiration. He stepped in casually, watching his feet as dull streams of blood branched the length of his body, down his hairless legs and disappeared into the drain. The pooling of water around his wiggling toes tinted red. Vegeta reached up, placing both hands upon the tiles, looking down the length of his body.

 

He flexed his thighs, calves and then his arms. His chest was on fire, and this blazing hot shower didn't seem to do anything to dull it. His skin reddened the longer he was submerged under the running water. His scars did not.

 

Memories... He was covered in them.

 

His entire body was covered with scars. Small scars, large scars, and even deep ones that throbbed even though it had been many years. Each scar had a different story. One covering his quad, had been a deep wound. He had grown bored with his seclusion upon the ship and disobeyed orders, taking his own pod without thinking. An energy blast from an enemy ship cut clean through his pod and nearly took his entire leg off, lucky for him they had won this small battle, which put Frieza in a 'pleasant' mood. The lizard had his most experienced medical team come in, giving him life once again.

 

It was a dark time in his life. Back then he had wished Frieza would have allowed him to die. He believed he had nothing to live for. He had no family, no race to call his own, except for the two survivors. Was he even a prince at all? Living on Frieza's shit hole of a ship, eating terrible food, facing daily beatings. Training was his only source of entertainment, that or small physical pleasures the ship, every now and again, provided. That was until he was allowed to purge. That was the day he began to live once again. He was doing what he was born to do, but on his own accord and with his own team. Though, since his life had been spared, Frieza held this small mistake over his head. That particular day would never be forgotten. He paid for that act of 'kindness', years to come. The scar and deep tissue still ached him from time to time. As did other parts of his body. He was covered in these memories, but it pleased him to an extent. He had scars to prove he was a survivor, a true warrior.

 

Resting his head against the tile, Vegeta basked in the heat, trailing down the length of his back, rolling over the stump where his tail should have been. His aching muscles sighed with relief. The heat was soothing; therapeutic upon the tight muscles of his backside. He swiped a hand over his eyes, ridding of the droplets of water forming at the tips of his dark lashes. His jaw tightened. Anger rising from the black pits of his dark soul. Vegeta couldn't help but feel coddled at times, and he was a Saiya-jin warrior. He wasn't meant to be coddled.

 

Daily, he was able to enjoy a shower, use a machine which simulated gravity, and was provided good food whenever he yelled. He felt like a spoiled child. He supposed that it should be this way, with his station and everything. He remembered the day when he lived for himself. He didn't have to worry about others, and others didn't worry about him. What would Kakkarot be doing, continue to surpass him with ease? He, somehow, was able to rise above him without the use of a gravity machine, or much effort at all. He reminded himself every chance he got that he was pure in blood. He had royal blood flowing through his veins.

 

Yet...

 

What did he have to account for? Nothing. He was not a Super Saiya-jin. He was nothing if he could not surpass that low class clown. He would seclude himself until his goal was met. Not only that, but he had distractions now. The female was causing more problems then not. Loneliness had drawn him to her bed. In that moment of weakness he gave himself to the loud mouthed human female. No, he had allowed her to have him. Yes, it was a pleasant experience and he fell into that trap more than once. Yes, more times than he would have liked to admit. Unfortunately, the union did come with a few consequences...

 

“ _I love you, Vegeta. Always remember that...”_

 

Love. What was the point of this emotion? He didn't feel that way for the female. Did he? He wasn't sure what this thing 'love' felt like. Saiya-jin never fully expressed their softer emotions. The female obviously felt this for him. Where did it get the blue haired woman? Heartbreak. He could not, no, he would not give her the attention, nor the emotional compensation. He was a Saiya-jin. He was a warrior. He slammed his fist into onto the knob, breaking it completely off. Water began to shoot every which way.

 

He had told her from the beginning where this emotion of 'love' would get her. She verbalized her understanding. Bulma had been quite clear.

 

No Surprises...

 

That unfortunately changed with one event. The birth of his son.

 

 

…

 

..

 

.

 

.

 

..

 

…

 

 

The door cracked open, allowing just a small amount of light to enter. The manly shadow form slipped in and softly closed the door behind him. The soft, feminine body laying in bed did not move. No one was disturbed, that is the way they wanted it. The shadow figure slowly inched closed to the small bassinet located close to the edge of the bed. A small infant, not even a week old lay silently against the soft pillows and colorful blankets below him. His fingers covered his face, and his little legs curled up to his tiny belly. He must have accidentally kicked the blanket from himself without knowing. A furry tail wrapped itself around his tiny feet to keep warm, moving and bristling with each soft inhale from the infant. The shadow leaned in, slowly tracing a finger across the tiny cheek of the babe.

 

The lavender haired infant slowly turned his cheek, opening his mouth searching for a nipple to latch onto. The little one grunted, baring his toothless gums and whimpered when he finally realized there was nothing to relieve this natural need to suck and fill his little belly. The shadow's dark eyes narrowed, resting his large hands upon the edge of the bassinet, watching him calm himself and drift off again. The boy wound his tiny tail tightly around his feet. The small frown on the infants rosebud lips told him that he was not yet content.

 

The shadow didn't know it yet, but _she_ had been watching. Bulma rested her cheek against the fluffy portion of her pillow. Her luminous blue gaze shifted over him. He was wearing a pair of the sweat pants she had recently purchased for him. She beamed with success.

 

_Not going to wear them, huh?_

 

She stretched under the blankets, causing the shadow to lunge back, hiding himself deeper into a dark corner of the room. Bulma rolled to her back and inhaled deeply, rubbing her tired eyes.

 

“I know you are there, Vegeta. I knew the moment you came in.” Bulma whispered softly, placing her forearm upon her forehead, eying the dark corner which hid him well, “Are you going to come to bed, or are you going to hid in the corner and contemplate holding him the entire time? That seems awfully tiring to me.” She huffed, hearing a soft grumble in response. She was waiting for a smart ass response, but what shocked her was she didn't receive not even one. Her eyes widened, trying to see him. She could see his harsh outline, now that her eyes were beginning to focus in the dark. So he didn't silently escape, he was still standing in that dark corner. Yes, she could see him.

 

No sound came from the corner. He wasn't in a talking mood this evening. Something was on his mind. What was it? Bulma huffed softly. Why did she even ask herself. He had yet to reach his goal. Surpass Goku, rub it in his face, and then fly away forever. She honesty didn't know how she kept herself from emotionally breaking down at the very thought. He couldn't, right? He had her, and their beautiful son. How could anyone in their right mind leave knowing they would leave a part of them behind?

 

“Fine, stand in the corner. I am not waiting up for you. Our son barely lets me sleep as it is. You didn't blow yourself up in that stupid machine, that is all I care about. Good night.” Bulma spat out, quickly rolling to her side and listening quietly to the sounds of her child's erratic breathing. She peaked over her shoulder, hearing the soft whimpers coming from his little mouth. When was the last time he had been fed? The blue haired heiress leaned over the empty side of the bed and glanced at the time. 3:43AM... it had been five hours. The little one was definitely hungry, not to mention her breasts were starting to ache, definitely responding to his now desperate cries for nourishment.

 

“The boy is hungry, woman.” Finally, in a gruff tone he spoke. Glancing over her shoulder she nodded, slipping her legs out from warm comfort of the sheets. Leaning in, she pulled her tiny bundle of joy to her warm breasts, kissing his cheeks and hair.

 

Vegeta's dark gaze fell upon her soft features and tiny figure. The female had only a small swell upon her stomach to account for. She still had her slim, shapely thighs, and arms. The only change to her physique to account for were her extremely swollen breasts. The twin mounds had become large and painfully full with milk about three days after the birth of her son. He honestly thought that was the best part of the birthing process. The child added more to her womanly curves. She had been shapely before, but now it was so much more...

 

The child began to cry hard, opening his tiny hands and reaching out, moving his little head back and forth trying to find a source of nourishment. Bulma cooed softly to the newborn, stroking the soft thatch of lavender hair upon his head. She lay out upon the comforter, pulling a pillow into place under her. She released a swollen breast and brushed it against his cheek, causing him to latch on instantly. She lay silent, watching her son begin to fall asleep against her breast. Her fingers stroked his cheeks and hair, expressing doting love in the form of soft kisses. She promised him everything and anything in the world. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for this sweet boy.

 

Vegeta slowly began to round the bed, watching the female feed the boy. Interesting. He had never witnessed first hand how the act of mothering transpired. Was this what his own mother did for him? He sat upon the edge of the bed, careful not disturb them. Bulma smiled softly, reaching over and patting 'his' side of the bed, or the side that he chose whenever he saw fit.

 

“Do you feed him often from your breast?” Vegeta asked curiously.

 

“Yes, I would say usually every three hours. He has to eat somehow, Vegeta. I refuse to give him that powder stuff.” Bulma traced her fingertips over Trunks' cheek, rolling her eyes, “He definitely received the Saiya-jin gene of hunger. He has a bottomless stomach.” She chuckled, noticing the annoyed glare he shot her.

 

Vegeta remained silent, slowly approaching them. His muscled abs rippled as he situated himself upon his side, watching his son drink greedily from his mother's breast. When Bulma finished feeding the boy, she lifted his sated, sleeping form and laid him into the bassinet. Covering him carefully, she leaned in and placed a loving kiss upon his forehead.

 

Slipping into bed, the blue haired female situated her padded bra and nightgown, glancing up to see Vegeta was looming over her. Without a word he leaned in with narrowed eyes and traced a calloused fingertip over the soft swells of her breasts. He leaned in, brushing his nose against the soft flesh, cupping its twin in his other hand. He inhaled softly. His lips pressed against one swell, opening his mouth to caress her with his tongue.

 

Bulma opened her lips, sucking in a surprised breath. Her blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly, watching his large hand, spanning the mound of her breast and sliding a tantalizing trail down the length of her belly. His fingers traced over the, no longer tight, skin of her stomach. Her stomach had not yet recovered from the many months of being stretched to almost the point of no return. A red hue drifted across her cheeks. Bulma was embarrassed. He had not once touched her sexually during her pregnancy. During her final weeks he had only once come to her.

 

He had slipped into her room. He climbed under the blankets and enveloped her body with a thick arm. His hand sought the hard plains of her stomach. It most likely was due to the fact she was complaining of the sharp kicks to the ribs. He, thankfully, had been active, allowing his father to feel his strong kicks. Of course he had believed she had been asleep, which had not really been the case. The last time he had seen her naked was when he had informed her she was carrying his seed and it would be the last time he would touch her. That was when her body was still tight, toned and beautiful.

 

Now she had stretch marks to account for, a pooch for a stomach, and a tinkling problem every time she laughed or sneezed. There was nothing beautiful of the after effects of having a child. Vegeta was a god among men. His body had perfect proportion of muscle. He was handsome. She felt as if he would feel like he was laying with a completely different woman. Someone lower in standards. Vegeta trailed his palm to the soft mound between her trembling thighs, tracing his fingertip over the delicate bundle of nerves.

 

Bulma gasped softly and clamped her thighs tightly together, “Wait,” She breathed softly through her lips.

 

Vegeta lifted his gaze from her breasts. His eyes were filled with desire. He wanted her. For the first time in months he was showing her the desire she had craved all those months of carrying his child. Biting her lower lip she felt an overwhelming sense of emotions washing over her.

 

“Why wait? It has been far too long.” Vegeta grunted softly, slipping the bra strap down her shoulder and pulling the cup away from her swollen nipple. He bared her creamy, white breasts to the cool air. Her rosy nipples hardened instantly, causing Vegeta to growl with want. Her breasts had become so large and he instantly longed to taste them. The nipple bared to his hungry gaze was still glistening from the child feeding. He leaned in and parted his lips over the supple tip, caressing the tip of his tongue over it. The blue haired vixen sucked in a breath.

 

“I am embarrassed...” Bulma whimpered, trying to cover her breasts from his hungry eyes.

 

Vegeta lunged forward and gripped her arms, holding them into place above her head, “There will be none of that, woman.” He murmured into her ear, licking the shell softly. His attention quickly shifted as he pressed his hips between her legs, allowing his lower half to press tightly to her core. His mouth descended upon the pink nipple taking it into his mouth and suckling like a babe.

 

Bulma pressed her swollen breasts closer to his face, feeling tiny tingles forming in her loins. Her body had been deprived of this pleasant feeling of him for months on end. She felt like a starved animal. Her wrists wiggled in his hands, trying to pry free.

 

“I am not healed. It has only been a week since I delivered, Vegeta.” Her eyes wide with worry. The doctor specifically said there should be no intercourse, especially since she had an torn slightly during delivery.

 

As if he didn't hear her. His lips broke free of the plump nipple. He licked his lips, “Your milk is sweet.” He had actually tasted her breast milk. All the air in her lung felt like it was being forced out.

 

Instantly his hand was upon her abdomen. His thick fingers slipped up and under her night gown, caressing each thigh carefully. His eyes narrowed as he inhaling her scent deeply. He did still smell a hint of blood on her. She was, indeed still healing. The soft smell of blood was nothing to worry about, but she was right. If he was to use her body; invade it like he wanted to, he most likely would cause some complications with her healing. His palm spanned the length of her abdominal region, concentrating on his inner ki. With that, Vegeta released a small, warm energy. Bulma closed her eyes, biting her lower lip. Her eye lids fluttered open.

 

Her crystal blue gaze met those intense, bottomless pits. He watched her, speaking softly in a language she wasn’t familiar with. Her eyes flickered back and forth, scanning the harsh features of his handsome face.

 

“What did you say?” She whispered, as he lowered his face to her neck, nuzzling softly.

 

“I said...'I’m going to take the pain away, female'.” He whispered against the soft flesh of her neck. God, she loved it when he spoke to her in a different language, especially when his hands were on her.

 

Bulma stretched her legs around the man hovering over her. The moment the warm heat of his ki left, shivers traveled the length of her body. She closed her eyes briefly, and slowly glanced down between their bodies.

Vegeta slipped his hand out from under her gown, but rolled the material up and over her hips. Their centers pressed tightly together, allowing for no room for the tiny woman below him to escape. His hardening length brushed against her center, causing a soft rumble in his chest.

 

“Well, I am learning something new everyday. I never would have suspected that ki could actually heal.” She smiled softly. Bulma moved in his grasp, wanting so desperately to touch his face and kiss him all over.

 

“Small wounds can be healed to an extent with ki. The thing is, your wound was well on its way to being healed. Your body was doing a nice job. A major wound would need more ki, which would not properly do the job if I were already mortally wounded, woman.” He murmured against her cheek, placing a finger over the top of her lips, “No more questions. I wish to have you several times tonight.” He looked away from her questioning gaze.

 

“What is wrong? I can see it in your eyes. Don't hide from me, Vegeta.” She murmured, slipping one hand free, and placing it upon his cheek.

 

“Don’t concern yourself. Why is it you humans always think something is wrong?.” Vegeta asked coldly, reaching between them. His fingers gripped the bottom of her panties, wrapping it tightly around his index and middle finger. A quick jerk and the materials threads began to snap, ripping clean from her lower half.

 

Bulma gasped and reached up, steadying herself with the head board as he lifted off of her and roughly yanked her body down. His dark gaze fell to the soft lips of her womanhood. His rough hands glided over her silken, hairless thighs, prying them apart to get a better look at her. He loved the way her womanhood looked, spread and glistening for him. Vegeta let out a low and demanding growl, spanning a hand over her soft stomach and trailing an index finger over her nether lips. Bulma jerked, surprised by his touch. Her head rolled to the side, trying so desperately to keep her breathing under control.

 

The Saiya-jin prince reached underneath her, gripping the mounds of her rear end. He massaged her ass pulling her body hard against his thickness. The thickness that was begging to be released from the straining sweats. His sweat pants were becoming painfully uncomfortable. The thickness pulsed to life. It twitched with the mere though of being able to dive deep within the wet warmth that he had been so long without. It had been months since he had this female. Training was his main priority, but he was of the male population. He couldn’t count how many times in the past nine months he had woken up with a massive erection and all he wanted to do was walk down the hall and throw his pregnant female into the bed and ravish her until she screamed his name.

 

Without warning Vegeta's hand was upon her moist center, caressing her. The tantalizing feeling of his fingers pressing and stroking over her most sensitive place nearly had her begging. Her head rolled to the side. She softly exhaled against the cool material of her pillow, continuing to grip and stroke the sturdy wood of her headboard. Chills trickled down her spine. A sharp cry escaped her lips as two of his thick fingers quickly penetrated her. Working a quick pace, her thighs parted more, bending and without her knowledge she was nearly twisting away from him. If his hand had not been on her stomach, grounding her, she would have jacked completely off the bed.

 

Vegeta softly growled, looming over her. He withdrew his fingers from inside her, brushing a wet trail up the length of her inner thigh. She felt him jerk his pants past his buttocks, pressing the swollen tip of himself against the length of her blooming nether lips.

Bulma began to breath unsteadily, afraid of the feeling. Did he truly heal her enough? Slowly reaching down, she gripped her knees, pulling them apart. The reddened tip of him sought entrance, applying soft pressure to her opening.

 

Slowly, he glided forward. Vegeta gripped the smallest part of her waist, flexing his hips and sheathing himself tightly within her. When skin was upon skin the Saiya-jin prince sighed, rolling his shoulders and letting a satisfied grunt escape his lips.

 

Arching up her breasts, Bulma pressed her hips up to meet her prince's. Feeling almost breathless, her hands caressed down her thighs and then extended to the hard contours of his lower abs. Vegeta's muscles tightened, surprised by her touch. He would usually complain about her exploring hands, wanting and needing to be the controller. Tonight would be different. He would allow her this small pleasure.

 

Murmuring words of love, Bulma finally sat up enough and pulled him down upon her. Her hands brushed lovingly over his shoulders and down his back, urging him to move against her. She pressed her lips to his ear, asking him to make love to her. She cried out. Vegeta responded almost urgently to her request. His hips jacked forward, claiming the small female below him. Without even a word Vegeta buried his hands deep within the young woman's blue locks of hair. His eyes closed tightly, pressing his nose to the silky locks, inhaling her scent. It was now embedded in his brain, forever and always.

 

Sweat glistened upon the hard planes of his back. It didn't take long before the sweat began dibbling down the length of his tightening buttocks. Vegeta breathed heavily, thrusting himself deep within the tight cavern of her lovely form. Bulma moaned softy in his ear, tightening her inner most walls, pulling him in, milking him. His manhood twitched within her, swelling and about to burst. Tilting her hips upward, Vegeta slowly penetrated her, brushing over sensitive areas deep within her. The blue haired woman's soft, creamy breasts bounced with each hard thrust of the man above her. Her body began to feel warm.

What was this sensation? This was something new. Her eyes flipped open. Those crystal orbs meeting the dark gaze of her prince. Her rosy lips parted, nearly crying out in surprise as the pressure grew within her. The heat continued, enveloping her with intense pleasure.

 

“Vegeta...what?”

 

Without responding, he continued his sweet torture. His body began to radiate soft energy from his very core, targeting her most womanly parts. He was deliciously stimulating her from the inside, wanting so badly to see the beautiful expressions as he made her come.

 

“Oh god,” She whispered, sucking in a painfully quick breath. Her head tossed to the side, but with a quick motion, Vegeta grabbed her chin. He forced her to lock eyes with him as he continued to dive into her.

 

“You will look me in the eye as I make you come,” the prince growled, baring his teeth. Quickening his pace, his bodies ki threw her over the edge almost instantly. Something feral stirred deep within her loins from his dominating words.

 

Her eyes nearly rolled with how intense her climax was. This was nothing like before. Why hadn't he done this for her before? As she rode it out, Vegeta's calloused hand trailed down the length of her neck, gripping it softly. He slowed his pace as her inner most walls eased up on his hard length. He released her, leaning over her. Placing both hands on either side of her head, he leaned in to brush his nose against hers.

 

Bulma leaned in, parted lips brushing his almost tenderly. Vegeta closed his eyes, allowing her this moment. What was this? This was a tender moment that she absolutely never saw. He was closed in, hidden from her. He didn't let many people in. Sharing his body was enough for her, most days. Then it struck her. She knew now. This was his way of thanking her. Thanking her for giving him a son, an heir. He was indeed pleased, but was there something else? Yes, there had to be.

 

Her hands trailed up his chiseled jaw and slipped into his black spikes. She smiled against his mouth, pulling away to look in his eyes. Inhaling deeply, he began to move once again. He wasn't quite done with her. He moved his hips forward, almost desperately. His thighs flexed, pressing deep within her, urging her to bring him to his own release. He withdrew for a moment, gripping his glistening shaft, and stroking up the length. Bulma looked between them, watching as a pearly white stream oozed from the tip of his painfully hard cock.

 

A few hard strokes and he inserted himself again. Enveloped by her sweet warmth. He grunted with intense pleasure, thrusting none to lightly. Riding out his own pleasure, it didn't take him long to reach his own climax. He barked out a groan, slowing his pace and filling her completely with his seed. Slacking against her, he laid his sweaty forehead against the soft swells of her breasts, moving his fingers over the tip of one, shuttering once more before rolling off her.

 

He placed a heavy hand upon his rippling chest, glancing over at the clock. He breathing slowed and with a soft inhale through his nostrils, he was breathing naturally once again. Vegeta's black eyes shifted to the ceiling. The caress of soft fingertips caught his attention, which he instantly tensed.

 

“Vegeta, I...” Bulma whispered in the dark, leaning over and running a hand through her messy blue locks, closing her eyes.

 

Without giving her a moment to respond, his voice cut through the momentary silence, keeping her from speaking again.

“I am leaving by the end of the week. I need a ship.” Vegeta kept his eyes locked upon the ceiling.

 

“Leaving?” Her voice no longer quiet. Bulma's blue eyes snapped open.

 

“Did I stutter, woman?” The prince asked, shifting his cold eyes in her direction once again.

 

Her mouth slowly parted, shifting those blue orbs back and forth, watching his face. This bastard was completely serious. Leaving? The Androids were coming sooner rather than later. He was actually thinking about leaving? At a time like this. She needed him. The team needed him, and he was going to leave them high and dry.

 

“Like hell you are,” Bulma sneered, pushing up roughly upon the bed. Gripping the sheets tightly and wrapped it around her naked breasts, “I will not give you a ship. You cannot leave when they need you, Goku needs you!” She pointed to a random spot, putting emphasis on her friends name.

 

“Kakkarot,” Vegeta spat, sitting up abruptly, he pulled his pants back into place, stood and shot her a glare from over his naked shoulder, “Low-class trash. I alone decide if I fight for this pathetic rock. I have goals that are way more important than that pathetic excuse of a Saiya-jin, woman.” So much for for having her many times. He had already tarnished their time together.

 

Bulma ran a frustrated hand through her hair, gripping the ends and tugging softly. She looked away and shook her head, chuckling softly to herself, “This is so you,” Chewing her lip she spoke again, “You selfish asshole. What about your son? Will you leave him forever? Will you leave me....alone?” She whispered the last part, feeling angry tears filling her eyes. Why was he doing this?

 

“I need this time, Bulma.” He spoke softly now, inhaling sharply. He stood before her, almost looking defeated.

 

“What shall I do?” Bulma whipped her head around and glared.

 

“You will survive. I know you, too stubborn to roll over.” Vegeta swiped a finger under his nose.

 

Bulma watched him carefully, “So, will you be back? Or are you leaving for good?”

 

Vegeta looked down, fighting his anger. He honestly believed that he didn't need to tell her his plans or what he would be doing. This was his damned business, and his alone. Sucking in a breath he looked her in the eye, “As long as it takes.”

 

“As long as it...,” Her blue eyes flashed curiously, “So that is it. Again with the competition. You are leaving so you can reach Goku's level. You want to become a Super Saiya-jin. That is that?” Bulma cracked a sarcastic smile, raising her eyebrow and looking away from him once again. Her eyes falling on the sleeping form of her son.

 

“There is no doubt, I will reach my goal.” He puffed his chest proudly, “Will you give me a ship?”

 

“Will you be back?” Bulma shot back almost instantly. Her heart refused to think of Trunks growing up without his father.

 

Vegeta slowly turned, heading to the door. He gripped the handle and yanked it open roughly, stepping forward, but pausing briefly.

 

“Yes,” She finally said, “I can have it ready by the end of the week.” Her voice was sad, crackling with emotion. Deep down she hated herself for giving into what he wanted. She had to believe there was an ounce of goodness in him. He couldn't possibly stomach the idea of his woman and child being slain by those beasts, right?

 

“You need to understand, woman. It means everything to me.” Vegeta stood proudly, gripping his fists tightly at his side.

 

“Just leave,” Bulma finally said, swiping away angry tears with the back of her hand. Without even a word from her Saiya-jin prince, he was gone. The door closed almost silently and she was left to cry to herself. He had her one last time before leaving. For him, this was the best he could do. Bulma understood the man couldn't express himself like a normal human man could, but he wasn't human. She had to remind herself of this fact daily.

 

This stupid man made her fall in love. She fell hard for him and he hadn't even meant to. He had given her so little at the beginning, yet when it came down to it he gave her more than most. She had a beautiful son. Vegeta had given her that sweet gift. He had to come back. He wouldn't allow these Androids to take over, would he? With all that kid predicted, these creature's strength and Goku's sickness. Without Vegeta who else would they have? Her son was just a baby. He hadn't even been able to experience life. She sobbed harder against the pillow. Sniffling, Bulma rolled to her side, forcing the tears to dry. She had to be strong, strong for her son.

 

_Vegeta...you will come back. I know it..._

 

….

 

…

 

..

 

.

 

..

 

…

 

….

 

A week drifted by then another week... She hadn't tried to avoid him, but it seemed as if he was doing an even better job of avoiding her. She readied his space ship, making sure to add things to keep him occupied. Safety features were updated and she even supplied him with her new improved armor. There would be plenty for him. His favorite foods and drinks were supplied. It was enough to feed an army, or so she thought. He hadn't once brought up their conversation. Deep down she hoped that he had changed his mind.

 

For the past two weeks she had been thinking about his goal. He had been trying to beat Goku the moment they met eyes. It was inevitable. There was a rivalry there she would never truly understand. Bulma knew that arguing with him would only result in furthering her frustration. It would only drive an even bigger wedge between them, which right now it was already there and growing with each passing day whether they liked it or not. For now she kept herself busy with side projects and caring for the love of her life, Trunks.

 

Bulma placed a small capsule in her pocket. She grabbed the pack of smokes off her desk and exited the building, leaning against the siding and shifting her curious eyes in the direction of the gravity machine. The round apparatus upon their lawn was humming loudly. Vegeta had been at it hard all week. He barely stopped to think, let alone eat. He never showed up for meals. He was either in his room or training. The gravity machine ran night and day. It didn't matter what time it was. Some nights it would be running at 7 pm and when she would wake up at 4 am because of her son, Vegeta would still be at it. It was his time...

 

The gravity machine's hum disappeared. Bulma placed the white tip of the cigarette between her red lips and lit the end quickly, inhaling deeply. Her arms crossed over her chest as she slacked against the siding. The door opened and out stepped a sweaty man. He threw a towel around his neck and turned to make his way down the pathway to the house, but paused. She took another drag, inhaling softly, exhaling a white puff of smoke. He watched her carefully for a few moments before shooting off into the air and quickly rounded the house, landing upon his veranda.

 

Pursing her lips she quickly finished her cigarette, slamming the door behind her as she entered her home. Her mother was humming in the kitchen, cutting up bright red tomatoes for supper. Her mother smiled, shifting her gaze toward the small bundle of joy nestled in his swing. Bulma slammed the door, frowning angrily as she walked past her mother who instantly struck up a conversation.

 

A dramatic grin formed on the blonds lips, “Oh, hello dear. Supper will be ready by 5. I hope that is ok. Hey, Bulma dear I am really worried about Vegeta...” Her mother paused, glancing over her shoulder, “Bulma?”

 

Bulma walked past her, ignoring her mother's concern for that stupid Saiya-jin monkey man. She trotted up the stairs. She was one pissed off woman on a mission. How dare that SOB fly on by like she wasn't even there. So he had been ignoring her. All she did for him, and this is what she got? He was a coward. As she rounded the corner, closing in on his room. She shouted.

 

“Come out you coward. I know you saw me. We need to talk.” Her lips pursed.

 

Pausing at the door she reached out to pound on his door. Not one sound, the door opened in mid-knock. The flame haired prince glared, reaching out for her. His bare hand gripped her upper arm and yanked her into the dim room. He slammed her against the wall, gripping her soft thighs in both hands and thrust against her. His mouth crushed to hers in a breathless kiss. Bulma whimpered and the door slammed shut...

 

…

…

…

 

She lay across the floor, completely nude. Bulma looked down the length of her body. His head rested across her naked stomach. She reached out carefully and touched the dramatic, bristly side burns of her Saiya-jin prince and finally decided to break the silence.

 

“You are leaving tonight, aren't you?” Her lips pursed tightly together.

 

He grunted softly against her stomach, “Yes,”

 

She pushed him up off her, and reached for her jeans. Reaching into the pocket, Bulma withdrew a small capsule from earlier. She cupped it in both hands. Vegeta watched her carefully, eying her cupped hands. The capsule corp heiress leaned in close and gripped one of his hands, passing along his ship. He looked down at the small apparatus. He knew what it was.

 

“It is ready.”

 

Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement.

 

“What of the androids?” Bulma cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck.

 

Vegeta gripped her chin and looked into her eyes, “I will become a Super Saiya-jin, woman, and I will be back. But not until I achieved my goal. That is why I must leave now.” His black eyes narrowed, studying her beautiful features.

 

“I love you, Vegeta. Please, don't...” Bulma began to sob softly.

 

Vegeta hissed, placing a hand to her mouth, “I will not allow them to hurt my son...or...” He paused, trailing his fingers over her soft chin, “You...” The word died upon his lips.

 

Bulma bit her lower lip and nodded, “That is all I wanted to hear.” a tear trickled down her cheek.

 

“You and your silly human emotions.” He hid his grin from her, not wanting her to know how much she truly amused him.

 

He did leave. The Saiya-jin prince was gone for many months. Many months of worry and absolutely no contact. Vegeta had removed the transmitter she had installed. He wanted complete solitude. The knowledge of this threw Bulma into hysterics. She was worried about him. For all she knew he had crash landed and was dying.

 

Her son grew stronger, growing up before her very eyes. Her heart hurt he wasn't there to see. She knew he would be proud.

 

But she couldn't worry...

 

He would return... and that is all that mattered to her. She would see her prince once again...and that was because of one simple fact.

She was most likely the only one who housed something very special. Her mind drifted to their final night together. He had been so sweet, compassionate even. Something that wasn't very much like this complex man she knew, or thought she knew.

 

“ _I do care...I do feel for you, woman...”, he had whispered into her ear after his moment of ecstasy..._

 

Bulma stood in the lawn, watching each twinkling star in the bright night sky. She was captivated by its beauty. Somewhere in that vast space was her prince. Yes, he would return and she would be right here waiting for him. 

 

…

  
..

 

.

 

..

 

…

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fin!
> 
> -Mallie-3


End file.
